Reflections in a funhouse mirror
The wind whispers secrets as it grazes over the rugged surface of the cliffs, its breath a cold reminder of paths untrodden. Each gust carries echoes of stones rolling, decisions carved deep within the foundations of the earth, just as they are in the hearts of wanderers.
Colored like the dusk, a raven crosses your path. In that moment, it turns the world upside down, a silent harbinger of the decisions needing to be tempered against granite. The mind spills out reflections as if mirrored in liquid, each distorted face revealing another possibility, another path obscured by the mist of choice.
Then, standing before the great immovable rock — what are the choices we make? Trust the whispering winds, or carve a new message in the stone?